


Waning Strength

by Fateful_Destiny



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 00:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14580879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fateful_Destiny/pseuds/Fateful_Destiny
Summary: The darkness was back, was spreading, taking over. She could feel it, could feel the light fading.Ja'lane Ravine was aware of the risks she was taking when she learned the shielding ritual and undertook the task of stopping the plague. But everything was happening too fast, her strength was draining too quickly. Her defenses against the dark taint in her mind had been wearing down, cracks spreading across the wall. She won't be able to resist it forever.





	Waning Strength

**Author's Note:**

> (Slight AU of the last mission on Taris for the Jedi Consular)

_Did Lieutenant Cellist always have two heads?_

Ja’lane stared blankly at the lieutenant as he spoke, watching his head inflate and deflate. She blinked slowly, feeling all her muscles protest at the slight movement. _Why was his head doing that? Was… was he infected too?_

 _No, that wasn’t the case._ Ja’lane shook her head sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose tightly, forcing herself to focus. Cellist’s head stopped blurring, finally returning to its normal size.

She watched his mouth move, hearing nothing but the roaring blood in her ears. Qyzen shifted his grip on her shoulder, his claws digging into her robe. In front of her, the lieutenant's face shifted into confusion before morphing quickly into anger, his eyes blazing. Concentrating on the pain from Qyzen’s grip, Ja’lane reached out, painfully grasping the last half of the lieutenant's words.

“-- hear me, Jedi?”

She shook her head numbly, trying to recall what the Lieutenant had said. He was angry… something about Master Tykan? He… didn’t…. something… _approve_? No, that didn’t make sense… didn’t she just save his troops?

“Typical Jedi ignorance!” the lieutenant bust out. She flinched, the volume of his voice sending an explosion of pain behind Ja’lane’s eyes.

Several pairs of eyes turned to look at the trio, the mess hall quieting in an instant. Unfortunately, the buildings in the Republic base on Taris didn’t provide much for secrecy, so everyone was privy to everyone's conversations. Including this one. Ignoring the stares of the officers, she blinked rapidly, focusing on Cellist’s words as he paced in front of the console as he continued,

“First you come in here, pretending to help the troops. But that Jedi, that monster! You spared him! He did not _deserve_ to live, yet he walks free while the men still suffer. Captain Nelex may have forgiven you, but I…” he trailed off with a growl.

Ja’lane took a deep breath before she heard herself reply, hearing her own voice but not even comprehending what she was saying,

“As I told Captain Nelex, Master Tykan was very sick, but he is heading to Tython to recover. I’m very sorry about your men, but I know the--”

The next moment could’ve been her imagination, but when her muddled mind caught up to the present, she saw Qyzen blocking the lieutenant's path towards her, grasping Cellist's wrist in a vice-like grip. Cellist's hand, she realized, was halfway towards her face. Cellist's head began to swell again as Ja’lane fought to comprehend what had happened. He had wanted to slap her… but why? Had she said anything to offend him… the troops… Master Tykan was sick… yes. That she knew. But why…

‘ _You do not raise hand against Herald,_ ’ Qyzen was growing, still maintaining his grip on the lieutenant's wrist.

Cellist was struggling wildly to get out of the Trandoshan’s grip, but his efforts were in vain. If looks could kill, both Qyzen and Ja’lane would be dead in a heartbeat.

Feeling the floor underneath her start to move, Ja’lane closed her eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself. Opening her eyes cautiously, she reached out a hand towards Qyzen, gently nudging him aside.

“No, it’s ok, Qyzen,” she heard herself saying.

It’s ok?... yes, it was ok… Cellist was angry… she could understand that. Why…. she couldn’t think properly. She needed to get off Taris soon… Ja’lane found herself not able to hear what Qyzen said next, fighting to keep herself from swaying as the roaring in her ears crescendoed. The look on Qyzen’s face told her enough though, and she fought through the murkiness to explain,

“Not now. It’s not something that is needed.”

Qyzen released Cellist's wrist but didn’t move, standing in between Ja’lane and Cellist. Cellist rubbed his wrist, glaring at the Trandoshan with contempt and malice in his eyes.

“That’s right, Jedi. Tell your beast to stand down,” he snapped, his hand hovering near his blaster.

A chill traveled down her spine and darkness washed over her, her very bones freezing over. Before she realized what had happened, her hand was already stretched out, yanking his blaster from his belt. Her other hand had grabbed her saberstaff, one tip of the green blades pointing towards his chest.

“I’m going to ask you to reconsider those words, Captain,” her words echoed through the deafening silence in the room. Several blasters now pointed in her direction, and Qyzen growled a warning… one she could barely hear through the darkness.

Only… that wasn’t her… no. Her defenses had broken… the darkness was back, was spreading, taking over. She could feel the taint in her mind, the laugh echoing in her ears.  _Failure, coward, weak. You failed Jedi, you failed._ The memories were crowding in.. flames, the Temple, Suna... the screams... the screams. She could feel it, could feel the light fading. How much time had passed? Surely the darkness had already consumed her, consumed the base, just as Vivicar wanted.

Piercing pain flared in her shoulder, cutting through the darkness like a knife. Ripping apart the edges, she peered out, seeing again Cellist in front of her, still frozen by her blade. And Qyzen, gripping her shoulder tightly. The darkness beckoned back, asking why she left its embrace. Should she go back? Wouldn't it be better for everyone?

_No._

Pushing back with the last of her energy, she forced her lightsaber down and away from Cellist. Clipping it to her belt, she stumbled back from Cellist, trembling as the darkness faded, hissing warnings as it left.. She heard a rustle of movement behind her as Qyzen caught her before she hit the ground. She hadn’t even felt her knees give out. Cellist was standing frozen in front of her, the hard glint of fear in his eyes. He had backed up to the wall, and his face was stark white. She… she had done this to him… let the… the thing out… she… she.. what had happened?

“No… this wasn’t… no… I… I’m-” she stammered, trembling as she leaned heavily on Qyzen for support.

Belatedly realizing she still had Cellist's blaster gripped tightly in her hand, she held it out to him, her hand still trembling. Cellist glanced once at her lightsaber before snatching his blaster back. The fear in his eyes turned to a brief flash of anger before dissipating entirely, a look of tired disappointment settling in its place.

“Kriff off, Jedi. You’ve done more harm here than good,” he said, shaking his head before turning his back to her.

Qyzen nudged her forwards, breaking the silent trance she was in. It took several moments before muted conversation started again in the room, the blasters lowering slowly as looks of disgust followed them out of the mess hall. Gripping his arm tightly, she forced her legs forward one at a time, concentrating solely on not falling.

_One, two, watch the hole. Three, four._

She waved off Qyzen’s questions as they made their way to the shuttle, not knowing how she could explain it to him. Could she even explain it to anyone?

First Master Yuon, then Master Fain, and now Master Tykan. If her strength was already this depleted, how was she going to be able to find the source of this plague? How would she be able to defeat it?

_How much longer would she be able to resist the darkness itself?_

**Author's Note:**

> The Jedi Consular was the only class where I sat down and consistently played until I was finished with Act 3. The concept presented that the Consular's strength was being drained when using the ritual intrigued me, and I was disappointed when it never showed in game, so I wrote my own spin on how it would have affected the user.
> 
> The after effects, such as the mugginess and slight hallucinations would fade a couple days after using the ritual, but the drained strength and taint in her mind lingered until the source of the plague was defeated. However, by the time she reached Vivicar, she could barely stand, and had to resort to.. other means to defeat him.


End file.
